My Ignorance
by simplysarcastic
Summary: He shouldn't still love her, after all she had done, but he did. He loved the redhead with the stupid shoes and perfect imperfection.


**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me. There. Said it.

**My Ignorance**

She's wearing her favourite lace up boots, with their velvety black surface and bright violet laces. Her curly ringlets of vivid hair are tied up, trailing down the left side of her face. She looks beautiful.

Her knees are pulled up to her chest protectively, and she cradles her chin on her taunt kneecaps. Two inquisitive eyes follow me, their innocence and unadulterated beauty sending fear spiralling through me. I can't exactly remember when I realized it, when I noticed how red her hair was and how her eyes held this type of passion that was unfamiliar to me.

It happened so suddenly, so randomly, that I still wondered if James and Sirius had slipped a Lust Potion in my drink.

**.x.**

She was sitting there, three seats down the right and across the bench from me; eating her meal with a relish that women didn't often hold. I was curious. Her bruised, pink lips opened to allow her to shovel mashed potatoes into her mouth, before tossing a few lettuce leaves and a wedge of steak into the blend.

Oddly enough, I wasn't disgusted the slightest. Instead, I was interested even further. I was engrossed in the way she shoved her frizzy strands of hair out her eyes impatiently, and the way she drank her pumpkin juice, not sipped. I noticed the little things that made her so fascinating; the way her tie was loosened slightly, her creased white blouse and that small smudge of makeup on her right cheek.

Those were the things that made her seem so shockingly real.

Suddenly, biting off a final chunk of her crumbly brownie, she unseated herself gracelessly, stumbling as she tripped over her untied shoelaces. I noticed that her shoes were scuffed and caked with dirt from the muddy outdoors. She grabbed her bag from beside her seat, and walked aimlessly out the entrance doors, before I realized she was leaving the room.

I didn't follow her; I wasn't that attracted to her yet.

**.x.**

James drops down on the seat beside her, pulling her closer to him with a gentle arm. She laughs as he tells her a joke that he heard from some Hufflepuff boy. And she forgets all about me. Her eyes sparkle in ways that I never could make them sparkle.

He starts kissing her, cuddling her protectively against his chest. She succumbs to him, wholeheartedly, without a doubt. Because that's how their relationship is.

But I didn't expect anything else. Instead, I turned back to my thoughts.

**.x.**

The next time I saw her was during one lazy, dreary Friday evening. She was sitting in her favourite armchair (the one right next to the fire), flipping through the pages of her book, apparently skimming the text for her favourite passage. She was wearing those stupid scuffed shoes again, with their orange laces and scribbles.

The fire was making shadows dance across her face, casting an ethereal glow to play upon her. The fire made her crimson hair come alive, strands of ginger, copper and pure scarlet dancing together to form this wildly beautiful creation.

She didn't know how artlessly stunning she was. Uneven, chewed nails were surveyed critically through her narrowed green eyes, the chipped sky-blue polish undergoing such scrutiny it had never experienced. She looked up from her task, lash-framed eyes scanning the room.

She stopped her gaze on me. I felt as if I couldn't look away from her beautiful, dreamy eyes. She carefully cocked an arched red eyebrow, a small smile tugging on the corner of her pouty lips. Finally, she gestured with a graceful hand to me, beckoning me over.

I complied. Ignoring Sirius' questioning look, and James surprised smirk, I walked over to her. She untangled herself from her usual curled up way, tilting her head softly. A waterfall of vibrant curls cascaded down and along her shoulder.

"Hello, Remus." She spoke patiently, letting each word trail off before starting the next. "Now, I was a tad curious, but why on earth were you gawking at me?"

I blushed. I had no idea how to respond, but I was prompted to answer truthfully. Somehow, that appeared to be the best course of action. "You look very beautiful in the firelight, Lily. I'm not the only one staring."

I know I stole one of James' pick-up lines. Or was it Sirius'? Those two loved to flirt, it was too impossible to attempt to discern the two's numerous flirtatious remarks and many allures.

She laughed quietly, barely audible in the slightly noisy room, "I cannot believe you, of all people, would filch one of Potter's lines. He fed me that one, in fact, last Thursday, I believe."

No bloody way.

"Honestly? Gah, of all the rotten luck, he had to act early. And I was trying to catch your eye for awhile, much the least!"

If I had learned one thing from my two friends', it was to never let a girl know how you truly feel about her. It might frighten her. Either that, or anger her, and ruin all your chances. In simpler terms, make a big joke out of the entire situation.

She grinned. "You're insane, Remus, you truly are. I think I like you acting like that."

Somehow, those words made me feel so incredibly good, so wholesome.

**.x.**

It's lunch, and her and James are laughing and fooling around. She keeps rolling her eyes, sticking out her tongue and snickering. I can't help but notice how her shirt is unbuttoned three buttons from the top, one more than usual.

A fat paperback novel is thrown at James, and she cleverly hides behind a pitcher of pumpkin juice before his retaliation begins. Sirius seems to be brooding as he watches them carry on.

"Perfect, the two of them, aren't they?" He murmurs, more to himself than to anyone.

"Obviously," is my bitter response, because what else can I say? I slowly masticate on my dinner, my appetite spent when the two of them decide to start showing how deeply their affection ran.

Dessert started, and they're still snogging. No one cares too badly, other than a few of James' envious admirers and the odd interested voyeur. It's rice pudding tonight.

I spoon some onto my plate, picking out a few slices of fresh fruit and some chocolate fudge to go with the sugary taste. She keeps glowering at her plate, obviously annoyed.

James laughs and shakes his head; obviously amused with her childlike antics. He waves his wand over a bowl nonchalantly, and creamy vanilla pudding replaces the former.

She looks delighted, and quickly begins to eat it with a newfound relish. Her head bobs with some song that's stuck in her head, and her feet tap out the beat. James' arm wraps around her waist, and she leans against him.

I can't take it anymore. Shoving my plate away, I leave the room.

Somehow, that doesn't make it any better.

**.x.**

It was strange, how out tentative friendship formed. I liked her quirky humour, beautiful, inquisitive eyes and her bossy, stubborn hidden foibles. She told me she liked me because I was so genuine. I always found that funny.

We spent many an evening under one of the many cherry trees scattered along the grounds. We'd sit alone, our shoes slipped off, leaning against the coarse bark, and giggling as we talked about the silliest of subjects.

Lily liked talking about James Potter.

"I don't think I understand him, I really don't." She got that confused little frown on her face, her usually smooth forehead wrinkling slightly. "How you're one of his friends, Remus, I'll never see."

I rolled my eyes, bored of the subject. "Why, Lily Marie, are you admitting defeat?"

She liked when I called her that. It made her feel exclusive, apparently, like we were part of some elite fellowship that only held the smallest quantity of members.

She mock-glared at me, "Why, Remus Johnson, are you being presumptuous? Very unbecoming of such a fine gentleman, I say."

There was something she always liked, being the one with the final word on any subject. An odd little idiosyncrasy she developed, probably from her constant quarrels with James.

A small pause followed; the sound of the Giant Squid splashing about and some bizarre grunts coming from the Forbidden Forest filling the empty space. Finally, Lily continued with her line of thought.

"I'm not fond of him, Remus; he's a horrible little boy. So brazen and conceited, why everyone admires him so, I believe I'll never know."

"Good on you, Lily, really, but could we move onto another topic; it's oddly enough too weird to talk about my best friend in such atrocious ways." I responded; my voice tinged with a hint of displeasure.

"Yes, yes, fine. But another day I'll have my way with you, Remus dearest, I promise you this." She wiggled her eyebrows, an impish smile playing on her lips.

Her eyes glittered playfully as I swatted her arm, pushing her softly to the ground. She pulled me down with her.

And it was all fine, for a day or two. Then all the problems began.

**.x.**

It's raining horribly outside, rain pounding on the windowpanes, making it impossible to look out into the outdoors. Sirius and Peter are in a rather spirited game of Chess, which includes quite a bit of tossed curses and heated exclaims of annoyance.

I, the typical bookworm, am seated on the corner chair, watching the game with a distant interest, ignoring my thick, new novel. Lily bought it for me for Christmas, along with an enormous tin of Bertie Bott's; I bought her a silky emerald-green scarf and a book on advanced Charms.

I was contemplating whether I should wander down to the Kitchens for a snack (I was feeling rather peckish), or if I should stay at my watch post, waiting for Lily and James to meander in from wherever they were.

They had stolen away a few hours ago, running into the pouring rain, laughing hysterically. After that, Sirius had rolled his eyes and proclaimed them barmy, before herding me and Peter upstairs. Lily had changed James, no matter what I liked to believe.

Suddenly, the slam of the Portrait door reverberates through the hollow room, breaking me free of my troublesome thoughts. Two drenched Seventh-year Gryffindors run in, laughing as they leave a trail of muddy footprints behind them.

Lily, her eyes sparkling blissfully, looks as if she's attempting to chastise James, but is also in the jovial mood he is in, so failing pitifully. Her red curls look almost black from the rain, and are plastered to her pale, milky skin.

"-really, James, we'll be in so much trouble with McGonagall tomorrow!"

"Aw, Lils, stop being so downbeat. Remember her expression? That was priceless, that was!" He grabs her hand and yanks her to the sofa, pulling her down with him.

She collapses onto of James, her small frame comfortably fitting with James'. It makes me nauseous, to look at them, see how elated they are, and know that once Lily belonged to me.

At least in my mind, anyways.

**.x.**

"Remus Johnson Lupin! I'm soaking wet, and you better be sorry!" Lily's voice echoed through the grounds, as she lifted herself from the sandbanks of the lake, spluttering furiously.

I was already half-way across the field, laughing madly. I chanced a look at her, craning my neck back, and suddenly stop in my tracks.

She was crawling out of the water, red in the face from vehemence and embarrassment. Her white tee-shirt clung to her full breasts and broad hips, showing how much she'd grown in the past few years. She wrung out her knee-length polka-dotted skirt unhappily, lifting it so high that I could almost see her plain red knickers.

Then she glanced up and spotted me. With a quivering finger she pointed at me, eyes glowering under her sopping wet hair. Subsequently, she kicked off her shoes and began chasing after me. The attempt was rather futile, if you asked me, because she was cursed with short legs, while I was rather long-limbed.

But no one could dare say she didn't hold enthusiasm.

Finally, I stopped, letting her ram into my stomach with a smack. We collapsed on the ground, snickering to ourselves. The grass felt spectacularly warm and soft under my back, while I struggled with her. She was laughing now, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling.

Something about that moment in time, something that made it suspend for the briefest moment in the air. It felt perfect. It felt exactly how I wished my future was like: blithe, exultant… with Lily. Her skin felt damp, yet balmy against my skin, and her smile blinded me with its brilliance.

I don't understand what happened next. I don't think anyone would. But, what I do know is that it was the best moment in my entire teenage life, and doubtlessly would maintain to linger that way.

I leaned up, capturing her surprised face in my hands. And I kissed her.

I never understood why people say your first kiss with the person you love will seem like your first in your entire lifetime. Now, I understood that concept perfectly. It didn't feel like other times: wanton, hot and lustful. Instead, it had the airy, sugary lightness that cotton candy held: lustrous, feathery and delightfully saccharine.

And then the world fell apart in my hands.

**.x.**

It's like watching some clichéd romantic comedy, I would think, when you look at them. Everyone loves how gorgeous they are, how perfect they are. We all know that they'll get married someday, have children and live the idyllic life.

Graduation is coming up, and as always, The Head Boy and Girl have to make a grand, lengthy speech. She's been planning it for months, frazzled and overwrought. James knows he'll just pull something brilliant out of his magician's hat, and still amaze them with its sentimental brilliance.

I wish Graduation never had to come. James wants to propose that day, before everyone goes their separate ways. I think it's corny and farcical. Everyone else will think of it as romantic and emotional. But, I guess it's a little prejudiced to think that, because I've been planning how I would ask Lily to marry me since Fourth Year.

I can't help but think about all the times we'd laugh about the absurdity of it all, when I'd suggest her falling in love with James, because what else could have we done? It's an unrelenting circle: the chase, the tears, the broken-hearted desires.

And everyone thinks they're perfect together, that they'll last a million years. But no one ever wonders what happened to the third corner of the love triangle.

They never do.

**.x.**

I think I might be in love with her, after all. It's the strangest feeling, looking down at her in my arms, feeling her lingering breath against my exposed neck, and loving every little blunder and flaw.

Oh, for all things sacred, I don't want to worship her. Life would be so much easier if it wasn't so, if I didn't adore her with everything invested in my soul. All her stupid freckles and that tiny dimple in her left cheek seem to make me grin, just by looking at them. Her cherry-red tresses are strewn across my torso, a few tumbling down to the verdant earth.

Her pale skin looked stark in the moonlight, her long, dark lashes forming spidery shadows on her skin. She looked up at me, smirking when she noticed my passionate gaze. She sits up, her stunning eyes still rapt on me.

"Pray tell, Remus dearest, what is so mesmerizing about my napping patterns?" She asked dryly, smiling affectionately.

"It's not your sleeping patterns, Lily, that rapture my attention so. It's your sleeping beauty." I whisper, as I nuzzle her neck.

"There's a fairytale with that name," she mused. "It's about this beautiful princess that is cursed into an eternal sleep unless her dashing Prince Charming comes and rescues her by giving her true love's kiss. I'm not quite right for that role, as you see."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're perfect for that character, is what I see. But, may I daresay that this Prince Charming would be me?"

"I would hope so." She laughs, looking up me with half-lidded eyes.

"Then I assume that I ought to administrate this legendary kiss, no?"

She latches herself around me, and we kiss. God, I love this feeling of total cede and ecstasy. Her hands are latched through mine, and the world stops spinning so rapidly, for an ephemeral moment in time.

How could I know that she'd leave me in a few meagre weeks?

**.x.**

"You bloody fool!" I hear her voice screech from somewhere near the forest.

Her maladroit form catapults down from the tree she had been perched in, and she lands in the dandelion-covered grass below. Instantly, I hear an eruption of laughter flood from her body.

James drops down gracefully beside her, a worried look on his face. He squats down and pokes at her shoulder carefully.

"Er, Lils, love, I swear it was all an accident. Remember, if your face is crushed or you're missing limbs, it's not my fault. Blame Sirius for… well, being alive covers it, don't you think?" He mumbles quickly, trying to rouse Lily from her hysterical fit.

An eruption of laughter answers his question. She grabs his hand and pulls him down beside her, crawling over his shocked form. Tenderly she pushes away some overgrown stray locks that cover his hazel eyes, and then she kisses him, melting into his embrace.

It hurt's to watch them, but I won't break them apart. She loves him more than anything on this planet, and James has sought after her for years, before I bothered to glance her way. They deserve each other, they need each other.

If only it was that easy to accept.

**.x.**

It was the beginning of the end; I would later call that night.

I was sitting up, James' invisibility cloak folded into a small bundle beside me and a dog-eared book on interesting Charms open on my lap. The moon was softly filtering through a thick layer of grey clouds and the stars seemed nonexistent. In a few weeks, she and I had become something of a clandestine couple, keeping our tentative romantic involvement to ourselves.

It wasn't right, to keep it to ourselves, but I didn't want to hurt James, who was coming through for me more and more these past months. I couldn't break his heart so abruptly.

"Where are you, then? Potter, show yourself!" I heard her voice, making me jump and quickly shroud myself in the silvery invisibility cloak.

She had appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, holding her brightly lit wand up and glaring at the world in general. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, either from the cold or suppressed anger. I could have showed myself, I know, but I felt like something was amidst. Something wrong.

Her question was answered with my friend's amused response. "Evans? You came? Well, isn't this interesting."

James strode out from behind the Quidditch shack, his wand slackly held in his hand, wearing his trademark, customary smirk. He ruffled his hair, leaning against the wall. At that moment, I knew that he was thinking about something. He was planning something dastardly and underhand. It was something about that glint in his eyes, mischievous and determined.

She stuck her hands on her hips impatiently, looking up at him. "Well, it did sound unusually urgent. Besides, you are Head Boy. I would hope this was something about troublemaking students or at least some valid reason or other."

He shrugged. "Well, urgent it is. Valid? I wouldn't quite exactly call it that…"

"Elaborate please, Potter. It's-" She looked down at her watch, checking the time, "-one in the morning, and I'd like you not to take up anymore of my precious sleep."

"Well, Lily, love, it's not quite that easy to explain…" James sauntered up to her, trying to catch her eyes. "Stop looking away," he commanded, catching her chin between nimble fingers and tilting it up to meet his gaze.

I should have done something. But I was as transfigured with the scene as she was; all I could do was watch James play with her emotions, wide-eyed and frozen, both emotionally and bodily.

"What are you trying to do, Potter?" She said dangerously as she pressed her hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

"All I want to know is why you keep pushing me away when I get too close…" He whispered; his eyes dark and esoteric.

She stepped away firmly. Her eyes were a blazing green and her cheeks were shining a bright red. "Get away from me, Potter. I'm not going to fall for your petty mind games, I didn't the first time, and I most definitely won't the second."

James covered the distance between them in one long stride.

It happened in a flash, I swear to all things above. Suddenly, the only girl I had ever loved was pressed against the rough wall of the Quidditch shack, being ravished by closest companion. I had jumped up, my wand pointed at their compressed bodies, hearing her muffled screams; ready to bellow out the first curse I could think of, when I realized something.

She wasn't screaming, she was moaning with pleasure. Her body was thrusting against his shamelessly, and her small, delicate hands were tangled in his hair on their own accord. Her lips were sucking against his mouth with as much fervour as James' were.

She wasn't pushing away.

She liked it.

So, I did what any jaded, betrayed lover would. I wrapped James' cloak around me more firmly, encasing myself in the fabric and started the walk back to the castle.

Because, this was where my short-lived romance ended. I would end it with her tomorrow; employ one of those banal break-up lines that Sirius always used. Possibly _'We're better off friends'_ or _'I just don't see us working out'._

Or maybe, _'You broke my heart, I'll break yours. Maybe I'm better off alone.'_

**.x.**

I wonder if she thought about those evenings spent by the lake. And on the off chance she did, did she like the memories?

But those days are over, and a new page of the story has been turned. Soon, her name is going to be Lily Marie Potter, and she'll wear her polished, expensive wedding ring with as much pride as she wears her engagement one. Our tale is over, and she and James have started their own.

It would be so much easier to let go if I didn't still lust after her. It would make her leaving me so much endurable is she wasn't so goddamn perfect in her own imperfect way. It'd be so much easier if I still didn't love her.

As I watch them dance tunelessly on the wet grass, holding onto each other for warmth, I wish it were me she was clutching. I wish I could pick her up and spin her in the air like James does.

I wish I weren't so jealous of my closest friend.

But, most of all, I wish I wasn't still that ignorant fool who deemed the naive idea that Lily Evans might have loved him.

Because, really, that's the cause of it all: **my ignorance**.

_-FIN.-_

**.x.**

Loved it? Hated It? Please review! (Yes, I know I should be working on _Kiss_, but… this happened instead.)


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